Eliza
by Selumgirl
Summary: There is no such thing as Royalty in Magic" they say. But Eliza E. has been raised to know otherwise. Now, after centuries of her family living hidden in Scotland, she has a job to finish. Post HP.Revised Prologue. Give it a try, R&R plz
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, any of its names, plotlines or characters, and I'm glad I don't, because then I wouldn't be able to enjoy them so much.**

**This is post- Harry Potter. I have been planning this story for years now and it's still very unclear in my head. I re-wrote this chapter because I really didn't like the other version that much. Honestly, it was dull. I really hope I got it better this time. It's completely original characters and it took me a really big effort to do. It's hard to understand at first but really, give it a try. (For those who **_**may**_** have read the older version, I promise it's better.)**

PROLOGUE

"A whole new plan"

The paintings in the dark hall seemed to be glancing at them as they spoke in an undertone. It was already past midnight and they couldn't risk being heard. Even in the dark, the couple's elegant clothes could be easily distinguished; you could tell from miles away that they were very well accommodated.

They had been up all night after the funeral. He was frustrated and angry and had told her they had to stay up until a decision was made. On her part, she was just too broken to sleep. She sat on a highly adorned chair following him with her eyes as he paced up and down the room. There was junk spread on the floor of the elegant living room, as he had bashed and broken things in his fury.

She waited silently, knowing full well that his anger was not something to be messed with, and waited patiently for it to wear off.

"I can't believe this" He would say now and again "He dared…"

She watched him half-mindedly, her eyes still red and puffy, thinking about the third person that would have been there. It cost her great deal of effort trying to remember better days, and she came to the conclusion that there had been no better days. Her life in this house had gone from bad to worse, and she didn't now how she would rise from the ashes of this latest tragedy.

She sighed, long and deep, and spoke "Milord" The man continued pacing, paying no attention to his calling wife "Milord" She repeated, but the husband remained oblivious to the woman's voice.

His eyes were fixed on something only he could see and his brows were furrowed. His tall figure dominated the room, seeming to send sparks of anger to every corner. He was, doubtlessly an imposing man, with his long dark red hair and his heavy eyebrows. His eyes were the coldest grey and his jaw was strong and square. He often said a real man always had to have a square jaw and a strong chin.

"Edward!" She finally half-yelled, calling at last her husband's attention. He turned brusquely and retorted with a very annoyed "What!?"

This startled the woman, and she took a second to recompose herself. "What will you do now? This changes the plan, doesn't it?" she asked gingerly

He scoffed, like mocking his wife "Well of course it does!"

She swallowed "Of course, right"

"Well I have to start all over again, don't I?" He looked down at the floor, deep in thought, and he said at last "It will have to be her. She is the next in line…"

The wife took a long intake of air and said "But, she-" The words stumbled in her mouth "But she's too young! She couldn't possibly-"

"Well of course she's too young for the ministry! Don't you think I know that, you silly woman?!" He shot her an angry look and then restarted his pacing "She will have to wait, I guess"

She let out a relieved sigh. That bought her some time, at least. "Oh, if only it hadn't ended this way!" she thought out loud, which granted her another fulminating look from her husband.

"You know full well I had no other choice!" He yelled at her. She held her breath in panic, cursing herself for having spoken "I know, I know" she tried saying, but he was way too upset. "Don't you try blaming this on me!"

She waited for the heat to go away, and then she stood up and dared to go on "But, please, Edward, be careful this time. You know how influential he was on her. If she thinks the way he did, it will end the same way, and I couldn't bare another loss like this one…" A sob escaped her throat at the end of the phrase and she covered her mouth to stop herself from breaking down again.

He approached her, suddenly tender, and held his wife. "Do not worryr, Helena, my love. I will play my cards better this time." He was using his most terrifying pleasant voice. She trembled and stood motionless until he let her go. She was used to his sudden mood swings, but that didn't mean they did not scare her.

When he finally let go of her, he was smiling. It was a triumphant smile, he was smug. "You know" He said "Maybe it's even better this way. She's clever…even more than he was. _And_ she has the subtleness of a woman. She's refined, educated for her age. She's more obedient and even more compliant. Don't you think?"

She stood gaping at her husband, horrified. It seemed his anger was gone, but it had been replaced with the most repulsive contentment. It made her sick "Ho-How can you say that?" She asked

He scowled "Don't give me that look. Think about it, Alexander was untamed, wild and needing to be free. I don't know why I didn't see it coming. Obviously, he was a man; he was made to have his own ideals and plans. He hated that I was making them for him and that's why he defied me. Don't you see where I'm going?"

Helena gave her husband a once over, knowing what was coming. She felt more and more repulsive of the man before her by the second.

"She, on the other hand, is a woman. She doesn't have to think, doesn't have to know. She just has to do what I tell her. She's used to it –following the orders of a man-, she has been doing it her entire life and she will do it for her husband when she marries. It is something she was born to do." He scoffed "Dear God, why didn't I think of this before? It would have saved us the drama…"

Helena stood open mouthed while her husband spoke. He looked at her when he was done, registering that she was offended. He so much as shook his shoulders and kept speaking, partly to himself.

"Anyway, I won't take any risks this time. I'll send her away"

She turned quickly, completely forgetting about the major offense her husband had just thrown at her face "But Edward…where…when?"

"Somewhere she won't interfere with my plans. Somewhere she can be of use to me-"

"Edward! – Do not talk of her as if she were your toy…she's merely a child"

"BUT SHE WON'T ALWAYS BE!" He spat crossly, making Helena cower a little. "Besides, she is of my possession. It is my right just as it is my family's right to get the old glory back"

Helena gave him a look of disapproval hidden under her terrified eyes. He looked at her and yelled, as if in response "Look at us Helena! My family has been hidden in this bloody forest for a thousand years! We used to stand tall in the magical world, and now here we are, cowering between the trees with our tails between our legs. _They_ should be the ones kneeling! I mean, they don't even mention or family tree, our great story in the history books. It is forbidden to speak of us..Instead they read about Gnomes and Elves and that Harry bloody Potter." He shook his head. He always spoke with such passion about this, like it was his given right. "We will be reborn now. I will make them remember what has been forgotten and they will regret what they did to us…"

There was a long pause. Edward seemed flustered and Helena sat down again in her chair, letting silent tears slide down her cheeks without bothering to dry them. She had heard the story so many times before. And now it made her sick. It made her hate this bloody family and this bloody castle so much! She hated the story that had taken away her precious boy. When she felt like she could speak without her voice breaking, she addressed her husband again.

"So…where do you intend to send her?"

He smiled a very wicked smile "Why, to the place where it all began…the place where I plan it to end." Helena scowled, and he smirked "To Hogwarts, of course…" With that, he left the room, letting her know it was his last word, and no more would be spoken or done about this.

She pushed her blonde, wavy hair away from her eyes. Her hair had once been her pride. She used to care for it and make sure it was always perfect; wavy and shiny, always in its place, always elegant. When she was young she occupied a very large amount of time on it, now nothing seemed to matter to her. Now her hair fell sadly on top of her face, opaque and horrid.

She felt like there was something very hard stuck in her throat, and the lump she'd had in the pit of her stomach this whole, sad day grew heavier and heavier. She glanced down at her black robes, trying to concentrate in nothing but them, but Alexander's face kept appearing in the fabric. And he always looked sad, disappointed, or angry. She got up and started pacing up and down the room, still trying to chase her tears away. She didn't want to go into her room with Edward still awake.

Her eyes fell on the portrait of Alexander, which was hanging over the small chimney. He was younger in the picture, and he looked down at her, scowling lightly. Helena brought her hand up to the portrait and touched his chest, and his eyes softened. "I'm sorry" she said, thick tears finally falling down her eyes "I am so, so sorry" she said, trying to grab the painting with her nails, now crying freely. She wished so strongly that she could hold him and stroke his golden hair; she wished she could undo what had been done. Alexander's painting smiled slightly, and he put a painted hand where one of Helena's was. She looked up, glancing longingly at her eldest son, wishing him alive. He had only turned seventeen, his life still ahead of him, when he died. Why did this have to happen? Why was Edward so stubborn?

With a last glance at Alexander's moving painting, she left the room and walked the long hallway to the west wing, where the bedrooms were. Before reaching her own bedroom, she paused on a beautiful white door adorned with flowers and magical sparkles. She pushed the door open, as slowly and quietly as she could, and glanced in the room. Inside laid a little girl. She found her fast asleep, holding a stuffed owl in her arms along with a picture of Alexander, where he was smiling cheerfully with the girl in his shoulders. Her eyes seemed puffy and her nose was red. She'd probably cried herself to sleep.

Helena's eyes softened and tears fell down her cheeks again as she put the girl's legs in the right side of the bed, and tucked her into her covers. She took the picture out of her hands and laid it on the bedside table, hanging a moment to observe the cheerful picture. She stroked the girl's cheek and followed with her finger all the way to her chin, and then traveled to her forehead, where she took her beautiful blonde her –very like Helena's- out of her face. The girl's breathing was suddenly interrupted, and she did a cutting movement with her chest as her chin trembled.

Helena's heart broke. "Oh, my child…my poor children" she whispered. She hated this. She loved her children more than anything in the world, and she felt like she was losing them. What hurt the most was to see how Edward treated them: like he was the puppeteer and they their puppets. He felt in the liberty to use them to his convenience, and then dispose of them like they where garbage, like it had happened to Alexander. Various times he had threatened to throw her out of the house when she had seemed reluctant to follow his plans. In front of him she was what he wanted her to be, a beautiful, poised woman and wife, very much in her role as a queen. Still, there wasn't one minute of the day when she didn't regret her marriage to Edward. They were young and adventurous when they married; he had seemed more charming and kind. But only they married, he had transformed completely into this revengeful monster, and forced her to have children before she was ready. Now she stayed only for fear, and for love of her children. She had had beautiful and wonderful kids with her wicked husband, and it hurt her to see he couldn't care less what a blessing his kids were; to him, they were only instruments for his plans.

He had tricked her. And now he was breaking her heart all over again. Alexander was already dead, and if he continued on the same road, their girl would soon enough follow the same path. Helena turned to look down at her daughter again and ran a finger down her rosy cheeks. "I am sorry, my beloved girl. I wish I could do something to stop your father…But I have no strength left in me to fight him. Now is your turn; I know you have the strength and the courage to stand up to him. Know that I love you, even if I don't say it when you are awake. You wonderful girl, I know you of all people can survive this…" she laid a soft kiss on the girl's forehead and stood to leave. When she was standing right under the threshold she turned to the bed again and whispered "Goodnight, my brave Eliza"

-

**..I don't know if it's because it's an original story, but I feel so nervous about this story! I really do think it's a good one, overall, but if this is not interesting in any way, please tell me. I want to improve it! **

**And to those of you who read the other version, please review? I want to know if it's any better**

**Thanks for taking your time!!!**

**B Happy**


	2. Chapter1 Her favorite place

Chapter One

**Her Favorite Place**

Eliza Evander lay wide awake on her bed, face up and eyes open. She had been awake for over half an hour now, but silently refused to get up. Instead, she was studying every detail of the top of her four-posted bed. The wood was old but well kept. There is hardly anything magic can't preserve, she thought. She was feeling angry today.

She had been feeling angry almost every day for the past year, but all of those times it was at nothing in particular, just at the world. Today was different. Today she was angry at her father. He had decided she had to go to school. And not just any school, but Hogwarts. She hardly understood it. Her father hated Hogwarts. He never stopped speaking ill of the school and its founders. And now she was two days away from being sent off to England to the school her father hated.

"I doubt you'll be properly educated there" He had said "But it's healthy for you to meet people your own age"

_Properly Educated _Eliza already was. She had had private tutors since the age of five, and if you knew how to find Eliza, you would always look behind the huge opened book. Reading was one of the pleasures she enjoyed the most. There wasn't a time when she hadn't at least three books started. It wasn't the act of reading that she enjoyed, but knowing.

And she knew _a lot_.

As for meeting people her own age, that held no interest to her whatsoever. What could they know that she didn't already? And given that, what could they possibly talk about?

Eliza wasn't like the other kids. She had been raised not to be. She didn't know anything about games and being silly and having fun. That was just a three-letter-word in her home. She didn't care for exploding snap or chocolate frogs or lickerish wands. She knew about art and history and mathematics; about poise and elegance and manners. It's kind of funny actually, Eliza knew over five languages; the only one she couldn't speak, was that of kids.

Her older brother, Alexander, often tried to get the child in her to come out. He would be playful and childish with her and make silly faces or say stupid jokes. She would try to pretend not to be affected by them but would ultimately succumb and throw him a big smile.

Now Eliza didn't smile. Not since Alex had died.

A soft knock on the door was heard and Antonius, one of his father's servants, let himself in subtly. His name wasn't really Antonius, it was Anthony, but father had said it was much more refined to be called Antonius. "Lady Eliza" He said in his always-respectful always-monotonous tone. "You father sends word that breakfast is ready"

She let out a sigh "Thank you. I will come down." Eliza said, bored.

Antonius made a pause before leaving the room and said in a rather different voice "Also, your mother wanted me to tell you to put your warm stockings on, because it is especially cold this morning." And he left.

The girl got up from bed and searched for her blue stockings. They were soft and warm and she slipped them on before she took her sleeping gown off. She dressed quickly and put her hair up almost carelessly, knowing that if she got to the dining room after dinner was served, her father would get angry, and she could hardly stand her father when he was angry.

The servants walked through the door about half a second after she sat down at the table. "Hi Eliza" Greeted her younger brother Ebert when she arrived in the room. Father threw her a disapproving look and she shushed the little boy.

Edward Evander was a man of many rules, and one of them was that kids should not talk on the table, for they were incapable of sustaining a decent conversation. Ebert hadn't still fully grasped that concept, and this was his first week eating with them again after having him eating in his room for two whole years ever since he was four.

Father had groaned and put his fork and knife loudly in the table. He had gotten up and yelled that he had had enough, that he would not tolerate such disrespect for mealtime manners, and had Ebert's nanny bring him his food to his room ever since. Ebert had promised that he wouldn't speak anymore and father had agreed to give him a new chance at the table.

They served the hot porridge on their plates and when the servants had left the room, father motioned for them to begin eating. Breakfast was boring. Eliza watched her little brother make a mess with the spoon because the table was just a little too tall for him. Father seemed to be in a good mood and spoke loudly to mother. His voice echoed in every corner of the large room. Mother was looking at her plate. She nodded absently after certain phrases and was sure to agree with him now and then.

Eliza examined her mother carefully. For some time now, she seemed to be fading away. It was as she fist remembered: seeing her mother wear out more and more with every passing season. But the past year had been the worst she'd ever seen her. Her olive green eyes, once always filled with that spark were absent and empty. Eliza remembered when she was younger mother used to motion for her and Alexander at the table to go to the kitchen afterwards. She would wink and when they were there she would give them a large helping of ice cream and they would talk and talk for hours, hiding from father and his temper.

Now mother walked the halls of the castle zombie-like, not seeming to see anything anyone else could see. Her once shiny blonde hair fell in limp curls on her back and in her beautiful face wrinkles could be distinguished. She stayed with Eliza every night until she fell asleep. She just sat by the bed and let Eliza read her book and lay to sleep. They didn't need to talk. Eliza understood this was her mother's escape from her horrible reality, that it was simply her company that she needed.

When father freed them, Helena brought Ebert to the classroom to meet his tutor. Eliza practically flew upstairs; walking the path she knew just too well to the third floor and opened the huge doors that led to her sanctuary.

Hardly anyone ever came to the library, and that's what Eliza liked the most. Father was too busy feeling important and her mother was too busy doing things her father told her to do. She was never exactly sure _what _they did all day, and it intrigued her. She knew much too well that her father though he was deserver of the world. In fact, she came from a family of self proclaimed kings. Kings of nobody, that is, but still kings.

She wasn't stupid, she knew that there was something brewing, especially since her brother died. There was way too much secrecy in the way father talked to mother. And Helena on her part seemed to be trying with all her might to resist. Eliza could see how much Helena suffered on Edward's hand. And besides, she knew that whatever plan her father was making, it had very much to do with her being sent to Hogwarts…and Alexander's death.

But in the library she escaped all that nonsense. In the library, she enjoyed that eternal silence and the wonderful smell of old books. They smelled like humidity and dust, things that couldn't talk, couldn't see, and couldn't hurt. It had become her favorite smell. To her, it meant peace and quiet and knowledge.

She sat at her huge red chair with a tall tower of books on each side of her; she reached for the one nearest her and opened it at a random page. A young wizard with black hair and round glasses faced her; he looked confused and bewildered and seemed to have been oblivious of the camera at the time. His famous scar was half visible through locks of untidy hair. Eliza sighed. She knew _his _story only too well. She had chosen to like him because her father hated him.

She didn't really read much that day. As soon as she had read a paragraph of anything she felt restless, so she peeked into a bunch of books, reading the explanations under the images and the definitions at the bottom of the page. This kind of exasperation she related to when she was upset about something.

Normally the bad mood would wash away with lunch, but this time it didn't. By the time of her music lesson she was so frustrated that she said words she had never used and, after throwing a filthy look to the scandalized instructor, tossed the violin away and sped off. At first she though of going to the library, but, after thinking a second time, she decided she would be too easily found there. So instead, she crossed the ballroom and went to the Rose garden.

The castle had five wings, twelve towers and six gardens. Eliza had lived eleven years in that place, and she knew only two of the wings and four of the towers. But the gardens. Eliza had visited each and every one of the castle's gardens, and she knew every detail of all by heart. The rose garden was the smallest of the six, and it was located right in the middle of the castle, behind the smallest ballroom. It was full of bindweeds and bushes and trees that hugged each other and created passageways between the branches. It had a small stream that zigzagged and curled all through it. And, it had hundreds and hundreds of rosebushes. When she was younger, Eliza used to love getting lost in those bushes. Alexander and the old gardener, Mrs. Ash played hide and seek with her in this place.

She walked through the branches, knowing exactly what she was looking for: A bunch of very together trees created a sort of small cave for her just over a little stone bench. If she laid there she could see the thousands of branches curled around each other, and in the spring, small white flowers would blossom. The roots were overpowering the stone in the floor and they had managed to climb the sides of the bench, making it look so wild and uncared for that it was absolutely perfect.

That single spot in the huge castle was Eliza's favorite place.

She laid herself on the cold stone and stayed there looking at the wilderness above her. Eventually her breathing became easier and her teeth unclenched. She was calming down. She just didn't understand whatever she'd done wrong. Ever since she could remember, she had felt unwanted by her father. He was always going on about how male sons were the pride of a father, and that a child should always do as the father commanded and follow example. She had so wanted to fit into father's demand and she couldn't really make herself a boy so throughout her life, she had always tried to live up to her father's – and her family's – expectations. She had never disobeyed that man, not a day in her life, and now he was sending her away…and to the place he hated the most.

Her fury was returning. She clenched her teeth so tight that in hurt. She could feel hot tears fall from her eyes and she scowled hard. She violently removed the salty water from her face and tried to resist it. She swallowed hard as she felt the horrible throbbing in her throat. Breathing deep and heavy, Eliza tried to calm herself down.

"Eliza, honey? Is that you?"

She jumped with a start and sat violently on the bench, feeling caught and angry for having cried. Turning to see she found the hunched figure of Mrs. Ash. She didn't speak, fearing that her voice would break. The old woman smiled a warm smile and said "Well, isn't this a miracle! I haven't seen you here for months! Thought you had forgotten all about me."

The woman's smile dropped as she noticed the girl's puffy eyes and hurried her step. "What is wrong with you now girl?" She said softly sitting in the bench. She put an arm around the girl. Mrs. Ash had always been like a grandmother to Eliza. She constantly spoiled her and gave her candy. The woman had worked in that garden since Eliza could remember. She had a stone hut on the far end of it and cared for the roses Eliza so loved. Her husband had been a butler for old Eleazar E. (Eliza's grandfather) and had fallen for the Scottish woman. The old man had let him marry and when Mr. Ash died, Eleazar let the wife stay and look after the garden. Since she had never had her own children, she treated Eliza like one.

She didn't want to answer but Mrs. Ash was giving her the look. The girl could never refuse that imperative look the old gardener gave her, and always ended up telling her the truths. She confessed too many pranks when she was younger because of that look. "My father doesn't want me." She said in a serious tone, never raising her voice; impassive.

The woman raised her eyebrows. It was one of those times when a kid tells a truth that he shouldn't know, and Mrs. Ash was struggling for something to say. The pause was getting too long, and nothing was coming out of her mouth. "Well, honey…I think your father wants you in his own very…special way."

"But he's sending me away, ninny. In two days I'll be going to school. And not just any school: Hogwarts" she looked up at her ninny's face, who had furrowed her brows "He doesn't like Hogwarts." She clarified matter-of-factly, and she turned to look straight at the entrance of her little cave, catching a glimpse of the rest of the garden.

Mrs. Ash looked worriedly at the girl next to her. Eliza's face was cold and calculating. It had been a while now since she'd seen that child laugh, and it saddened her deeply. What atrocity her parents had done by turning this girl into this empty shell; always determined not to feel, growing up to early. She was eleven going on fifty.

She put her arm around the girl and held her close. Eliza didn't hug her back, nor did her cold expression change the smallest bit, but Mrs. Ash felt her slim form relax as she leaned on the woman's chest. She didn't say anything. She just sat looking straight like Eliza. But silently she thought it would be good for her: going to Hogwarts. It would be healthy for her to get away from her cold house, her wicked father and her broken mother. And more than anything, the empty space that was now her brother's room. And she hoped against hope that someone, anyone, at that faraway place, would unfreeze this girl, and bring back the old Eliza.

-

Miles away, in a small street in London, a young boy finished filling his trunk, excited as ever, ready to go to school. There was this feeling in his gut that told him this would be a wonderful adventure, and he was keen for it to start.

-

**Gah! It took too long. **

**If there was someone waiting for this, I'm sorry. It took me so long because I had to introduce this whole new world and this whole new character. Also I had to make clear that they **_**are**_** in Harry Potter's world. Eliza is a very complicated character, I hope you learn to lover her as much as I do. **

**If you have any ideas, post them or mail them **

**See you guys later. Review please!! (eep)**

**B Happy!**


	3. Chapter 2 Departure

Chapter 2

Departure

Eliza spent the next couple of days wandering about, avoiding her father. She spent every hour of day in the garden after her meals and when the sun hid, she buried herself in her books in the library. She was nowhere to be seen all day; even if you walked into the library you would only hear the faint whisper of her breathing through piles and piles of books. So much that her mother started thinking she was a ghost and Ebert was constantly asking for her, believing the girl had been abducted. Eliza however was not lost or dead, she was simply empty. She had occupied herself in her last days at home to drain herself of all wish, desire or thought.

She had willingly and consciously become a walking, moving vessel of nothing. She had decided not to care about Hogwarts or her father or anything at all. Thinking of Alexander, she had decided to do what he had always told her, and made a brilliant plan, which was, in her opinion, absolutely infallible. She would go to Hogwarts like father had commanded. She would pass those seven years quietly and without complaint, and the minute she turned seventeen, she would get out of that house and look for a life away from her family and that castle that was driving her insane. She owed that to Alexander. He had always hated that place and told her about his brilliant plan.

It was a shame, she thought, that when her brother had finally turned seventeen and was ready to carry out his plan, that horrible accident had killed him. But Eliza wouldn't let his dream die with him, and she was sure Alexander would hate seeing her caught in that house forever.

She was so lost in her trips to the garden and her evenings in the library that the last day at home she completely forgot about supper, and remembered forty minutes into it. She jumped suddenly when she glanced at the sun, throwing chess pieces everywhere and making Ninny flinch from her spot in front of her. "Oh, no" she yelped, and without a word to ninny she ran towards the house like a madwoman. She had never in her life, not once, been late for supper or anything for that matter. She was angry with herself for having relaxed so much, how could she have let herself forget? But more than anything she was scared. What´s more, she was terrified of what her father would say.

She slowed down a bit, what if she didn't show up? She would miss father's scolding and yelling. Yes, she thought, that's just perfect. She would go back to the garden until twilight was at bay and run off to the storage tower. She could wait there until the night was silent and when she was sure everyone was asleep, she would tip-toe to her bedroom. She had stopped running by now, formulating her plan under such adrenaline she felt her heart might explode. That was ridiculous. There was no way she could escape her father. And besides, if she waited until tomorrow the storm would be even worse. So she took a deep breath and begun walking towards the dinner hall.

"What is the first rule in this house, Eliza? Can you tell me that?"

"It is punctuality, father"

"Hm. And tell me…were you punctual this evening?"

"No, father, I was not"

"And can you tell me…" He took a lock of her hair and stroked it "…why?"

Eliza breathed deeply and her heart started beating faster, "I was in the garden doing a reading, and I…lost track of time." She gazed up at her father's face, which looked like he was angry, but deeply enjoying this.

"You know that's no excuse, girl" He said smiling. "We waited for you for fifteen minutes, and then we ate our food. It was already loosing heat by then. Now, your plate is served and was served at its right time. You will wait fifteen minutes sitting at the table and then you will eat your dinner cold. _And_, you will do it alone. Antonius here will watch you until your fifteen minutes have passed and then he will leave you to it. I hope this teaches you a lesson. Goodnight, Eliza." And he left.

Eliza glanced at her mother and then sat at her spot on the table. Helena had been looking at her worriedly the whole time. She was suffering, Eliza could see that, and it was her fault this time entirely. The woman sat on the seat next to her child. She stroked her hair and kissed her cheek, "I'll be waiting for you in your room to say goodnight" she whispered in her ear. The girl nodded and watched her mother's tall figure leave the room.

The beef was fatty, and while cold, this was all the more evident. All in all, it was disgusting. Yet, Eliza ate the whole thing slowly, not hesitating for a moment. When she was finished, she stood and followed the so well-known trail to her room's bathroom in order to brush her teeth. When she finally got to her room, Helena was there, as promised. The woman didn't seem to notice her at first, and Eliza stood under the door watching her for a moment. She sat in a small chair next to the four-posted bed while reading a novel. She looked uneasy in a way, like there was something bothering her in the chair.

She looked up "Oh, dear, I didn't see you arrive…" she smiled.

Eliza then noticed that her mother looked weak. She was pale and there were bags under her eyes. She was wearing out. She motioned for the girl to sit on her bed and Eliza obeyed.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" she was trying to appear happy.

"Yes"

"Do you have all you need?"

"Yes"

"Are you nervous?" mother looked worried; she was expecting some reaction from Eliza that she wasn't quite getting.

"No"

Helena looked down at the floor worriedly. She seemed to thing for a moment, she sighed, raised her face and looked at Eliza with a warm smile. "I'll write you every week"

"I shall appreciate it"

"What is wrong with you, Eliza?" She suddenly screamed, taking the girl by her should "Why? Why are you incapable of being happy?!" She was crying now. Eliza's eyes were huge with surprise, but neither her brow nor her mouth moved the smallest bit. Since that day in the garden, Eliza had decided she would not cry again, and so she didn't.

Helena looked directly at her daughter's grey eyes with her green ones, expecting an answer. Eliza looked back at her mother with her eyes wide and a slight frown. She had been pulled out of the stupor she had been in for days so suddenly. Her mind was drifting onward, past her mother's face and the walls of her room. Helena broke down sobbing in her daughters' chest. The girl stroked her mother's hair while she stared blankly at the wall. The effort to drift away was a huge one, and she could feel a distant throbbing in her chest.

Between sobs, Helena exclaimed "What has he done to you?"

----

She woke up early the next morning. Her trunk had been ready for a week already, so she didn't have much to do until 10. She took especially long bathing and getting dressed and she ate breakfast swiftly in the kitchens before time, asking Antonius to excuse her with her father. She didn't really care what he thought about it anymore.

The garden was especially beautiful that morning. It was so early that the animals were still asleep. The stillness was extraordinary. She walked gingerly through trees and bushes, glancing up at birds half asleep. It was extraordinary to her how still and peaceful this place was, given the amount of life it had during the day. At the far corner of the garden she spotted the small cabin. It had been there for so long the weeds had climbed it and overgrown it. It was already a part of the garden, molding into the panorama, camouflaging with the wilderness. She climbed the two small steps and knocked on the door.

Mrs. Ash was not surprised. "Ah! Here you are! You arrived later than I thought, the brownies are getting cold."

The girl ate the brownies in silence while Mrs. Ash swept the small house. It was a charming little hut. The roof was completely covered by the same hanging flowers there were in Eliza's small cave. They had slithered up and peeked through the window. The walls were covered with pans and clocks. Mrs. Ash had at least twenty clocks on the wall opposite the door, all of different shapes, sizes and colors. The tic tocks joined in a wonderful choir and they clicked and clocked all at the same time, giving the impression it was a huge grandfather clock.

The woman finally sat and said "Well, I imagine you're ready."

Eliza swallowed before answering "Yes. It is not really something I mist prepare for." Mrs. Ash looked at her questioningly.

"It is nothing new for me. The knowledge imparted in the first year at Hogwarts is merely half of what I have read. I know all they are to tell me. I simply don't understand everyone keeps saying I should be happy or nervous."

Mrs. Ash raised her eyebrows, and she snorted "Well, child, because it is not the classes you should be worried about." She was smiling half incredulously and half sadly "You see, what makes people so nervous about school is other people. Yes, you know everything they'll attempt to teach you and more, but it will be the first time you are around kids your own age. Have you thought of that?"

Eliza was offended. A scowl was drawing on her face as she said "I am aware, but I don't make much of it. They are no more than simpletons who don't take anything seriously."

"Well, those simpletons are your equals, kid" the woman said, "and to their eyes you will be no princess. You will be no more than they are, to them, you will be a pretentious know-it-all with a superiority complex"

The girl was getting angry now. She had brought her hands under the table and she was clenching her fists and her teeth so much that it hurt. "Well then, I'll tell them…I'll tell them I'm not like them, that I---"

"-that you were tutored and pampered and that you father is an egomaniac who believes in a dead dynasty. Is that what you'll tell them?"

A hard lump was forming in Eliza's throat as, once again, she felt the need to cry. Her cheeks grew slightly red but she did not yield.

Mrs. Ash looked desperate. Like her mother, she was expecting something from the girl that she would not get. "Do it, Eliza!" She suddenly spat out, "Go ahead! Be mad at me! Yell! Kick and scream!"

Eliza looked at the table, fixing her gaze on the half-eaten brownies. She breathed deeply through her nose and calmed herself, attempting to drift away like she had donde with Helena.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, CHILD, CRY! Cry, be angry, and scream! I offended you and your entire lineage, so TEAR MY HOUSE APART!!"

For a second, Eliza looked up at Mrs. Ash's face. It was hard. She looked angry and exasperated but her eyes were watery.

"I will go now." And she stood up and slowly made for the door.

"Hey," Ninny called when Eliza was at the door. The girl paused to listen but did not look back. "If…if you don't want those kids to eat you up you will need to be a little more of a …_simpleton._"

She ran all the way back to the west wing, breathing deeply like she'd done before, heading nowhere. She ran like there was no end to the world. "_Your father believes in a dead dynasty"_, what could that have possibly meant? She had been raised to be nobility, but she didn't know why. What had ninny meant to say? What was that _lineage _thing? She didn't understand. She didn't want to understand, she didn't want to be taught things she already knew, and she didn't want to see other kids. She didn't want to go to Hogwarts!

Without realizing it, she opened a door and closed it behind her. She was panting and her heart was beating furiously. That question was rising again in her head, the question that had been following her since her father decided to send her away. She had tried to forget about it, to push it down. But Mrs. Ash's words had brought it back to mind. What did her Father want?

He was after something; he had been the whole time. But what it was escaped her. Once when she was younger and father called Alex into his study for one of their long talks, Eliza had asked her brother "What did father want?" Alex looked menaced by the question, looking rather disturbed. He had curtly answered "You're too young to know". When Alex died the previous year, the entire attention father put on him, good or bad, was passed unto Eliza. He was stricter with her in every aspect, constantly checking whether she sat properly and talked and dressed and walked the correct way. He hired a more capable tutor for her, and doubled her studying hours. Father was trying to turn her into the perfect child Alex once was, and she didn't understand why.

Once she could breathe properly she broke out of her daze and looked around the room. Her heart shrunk. Before her stood a cold, unused four-posted bed that had once belonged to her brother. She swallowed. She hadn't been here in a year. She was suddenly reminded of her younger self turning up here in the middle of the nigh, looking for her brother to tell her a story. She felt she couldn't be farther from that little girl.

Glancing sideways, and found her brother's huge portrait over the chimney. It had been painted for his seventeenth birthday and hung on the hall for about a week. She hadn't seen it since the funeral, where it had hung right over the coffin, looking sadly down at his dead self. The Alexander inside the frame was now fast asleep, his chest slowly moving up and down peacefully. She stood glancing at it, and a frown appeared on her face.

Like he had felt the girl's glare, the young man inside the painting woke, and looked around the room with sleepy eyes before spotting Eliza. He smiled. "Hey…" the voice that came out of the frame sounded exactly like Alex, and the smile he offered was one she knew only too well. "I knew you'd come to visit…"

Eliza swallowed. She didn't know whether it felt good or worse to see her brother in this context. She knew far too well that the Alex inside the painting was a part of his essence. He was Alex, in some way. But she'd always felt that talking to a painting of him would feel like speaking ear to ear being oceans apart. It was exactly like that. Eliza was staring into her brother's painted eyes. He offered a smile and she a scowl. "What is wrong with you, little bit?" He finally asked, the smile leaving his face.

"I'm being sent away" she said limply.

He raised his eyebrows "How come?...Where?"

"To Hogwarts. And it's _your_ fault." The girl said, looking grudgingly into the painting. Before Alexander could answer, she half-yelled, "It's your fault! You weren't supposed to die! And you've left me here alone with father! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" And she sped off, leaving a confused painting behind. This must be it, she thought as she ran madly towards the library, this must be what mother and ninny were waiting big reaction.

But why was everyone so desperate for her to cry? She didn't like how it felt to cry. A pain was growing in her chest, larger by the second when she suddenly bumped into something hard and fell backward with a thud. She looked up to find Antonius's slim figure looking down on her, stunned, "I'm deeply sorry, milady" she said, and offered his arm, which Eliza took.

"I must be taking you to the station now." He said. Eliza looked up at him, still dazed.

"All right" she said absently.

Helena was waiting at the door to hug her goodbye. She gave her coins for food on the train (which her father had denied) and told her to be careful. She looked worried when Eliza finally left, popping out into nothing alongside Antonius. They appereated on a small alley and Antonius returned her trunk to its normal size. They walked wordlessly towards the train station, which was a few blocks away. Eliza felt like she was being walked down the jail hall for a death sentence as she entered the brick building. She spotted platforms nine and ten and other kids with trunks accompanied by their parents.

She and Antonius went into platform 9 ¾ right behind a girl with short black hair and her parents. She looked seriously annoyed as her father, a tall blond man, talked to her about something that had to do with "family traditions", "slytherin" and "blood". Inside the platform there were hundreds of other kids, most of them looking nervous. Parents were scolding, and cheering and crying all around the place. Kids carried their trunks into the train as mums said goodbye. Eliza couldn't help but notice how much her sleek, dark blue trunk contrasted with all the others, which were generic. It made her feel uncomfortable.

"Let's find you a place, Miss Eliza" Antonius was successful in finding an empty compartment in the middle of the train. He carried the trunk in and put it in place as the girl took a seat next to the window. "Would you have me stay until the train leaves?" He asked.

"No." She said, looking out the window at all the bellowing families. "It should be alright, thank you"

"Very well," said Antonius "I will be leaving then"

He turned to leave but stopped in his tracks, turned to Eliza and said "You'll be alright, Miss Eliza. You're a strong girl" And gave her a warm smile before leaving.

Looking out the window she saw the black haired girl again. She was, again with her parents. They were talking among themselves, looking down at whoever passed by too close. They reminded Eliza strongly of her father. They seemed to have the same sense of superiority, always trying to look elegant, refined and important. The girl looked like she was to die of boredom. Then, an older boy joined the family. He was, unmistakably, the eldest son, for he was almost the spitting image of the father. He said something and then motioned for the girl to follow him into the train. And they disappeared from her sight.

"Uh, excuse me?" the soft voice came from the compartment door, and Eliza turned from the window to find a boy. He looked like he was first year, too; he had brown hair, almond-green eyes and a soft round face. He looked nervous as he asked "Do you mind if I sit here?"

Eliza turned to the window again, "Sit wherever you please" she said coldly. The boy didn't seem offended or hurt whatsoever. What's more, he gave her a wide smile and gleefully put his trunk in its place before he sat down opposite Eliza.

"Hey"

Eliza threw him a once-over, why was he still talking? "Hello"

"You must be first-year as well. I'm really excited about this! Aren't you? I've waited all summer for today; I can't believe I'm already here…" Eliza didn't return his smile, in fact, she was doing a terrific job ignoring him, yet his smile did not fall the least bit. "What's your name?" He asked

"Eliza Evander…" said she with simplicity.

"Eliza…I like your name. It sounds all elegant." He smiled (he didn't seem to know how not to) mischievously.

"By the way," he said, "I'm Sam"

---

**I can't believe I did it! It took me ages to finish this. I found it harder to write than I would have ever though, but in my opinion, the results are favorable.**

**Yes, Eliza is emotionally constipated. I hope you're beginning to understand her character a little better. Please don't give up on me.**

**Constructive criticism is still very much appreciated!**

**B Happy! =)**


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